Showdown In Cargo Bay Two
by Marauder-In-Disguise
Summary: When Chakotay found out that Tuvok was Starfleet, he was pretty angry. So how did they solve their differences before it began to affect their working relationship? That Kathryn Janeway is a clever woman...


**A/N: Just before we begin, I want you to know that in no way am I sexist. Any comments that are made in this story about men are only lighthearted and I don't mean them. ****No flames if you disagree, OK? You have been warned...**

Kathryn Janeway watched her new First Officer as he himself watched the bridge. He was taking in every detail, every movement, and every word. He was serious about this, she noted gladly. But one thing did worry her. Every so often, Chakotay would turn and look at Tuvok. The Vulcan appeared quite unaware of this but she was not. The look on Chakotay's face said exactly what he was thinking and it was worrying. In a way, she did understand his anger. He'd trusted Tuvok – she would probably be just as angry if she discovered that one of her officers was an imposter. But such animosity could not go on – she could not have her First Officer that angry at her Chief of Security for however long they were stuck together. Even though Tuvok was not aware – or so it appeared – of the resentment that Chakotay was harbouring, she knew that he would want to solve the problem, logical being that he was. In an instant, Kathryn decided on a plan of action. Men were men, whether they were human or Vulcan, but they were also just little boys at heart, and there was only one tried and tested way for little boys to solve their differences.

***

Late that night, Chakotay paced his quarters, trying to familiarise himself with the layout. They were of a generous size and in a good place as well, next door to the captain.

Where a First Officer should be, half his consciousness whispered.

Where she can keep an eye on you, the more cynical half replied.

"Computer, what's the time?"

"23 00 hours."

He groaned. He should be exhausted but he just couldn't sleep. He hadn't slept last night – he'd wandered the corridors and tried to accustom himself to the ship. It was more complicated than it looked and he was afraid that he would get lost if the captain decided to send him somewhere that he hadn't been before. Then of course, he'd spent all day talking to his Maquis crew and making sure that they weren't being treated badly. The best thing at the moment was the fact that Neelix was feeding them all – the Talaxian had no preference to Starfleet or Maquis. He was actually really helping to integrate the crews already. Chakotay did worry about his crew. Janeway may have made the decision for them all but he had made it for his crew, when he agreed to her terms. They were his responsibility.

The door chime roused him from his thoughts.

"Computer, who is it?"

"Commander Tuvok."

"Come in," Chakotay immediately tensed up and stood squarely in the living area. Whilst he had spent all day preaching to his crew and telling them that they could no longer feel anger towards the Starfleet crew, he had been nursing the feeling of betrayal that he got from the Vulcan's revelation. The very sight of him made his blood boil at the moment.

"Good evening, Commander Chakotay. I have come to extend an invitation."

"What's that?"

"Every evening, I practice various kinds of hand to hand combat in the cargo bay. I would like to invite you to join me. I would of course be glad to instruct you if..."

"Do you do Earth martial arts?"

"Of course."

"Then I don't need instruction. What time?"

"Usually, at this time. If it is too late for you then I could change the..."

"This time is fine. Give me five minutes."

"Of course."

***

Within ten minutes, both men were in the cargo bay and dressed for the occasion; Tuvok in a Vulcan tunic and Chakotay in simple shorts and a shirt. Chakotay watched Tuvok warily as he quickly and efficiently set up the area. He did this often. For a moment, Chakotay wondered whether this was such a good idea; it had, after all, been years since he had practiced martial arts. But then he remembered that he was infuriatingly angry with Tuvok and that would probably carry him through. He didn't know why the Vulcan had suggested that they do this – as far as he knew, Tuvok didn't believe there was a problem. Eventually, the Vulcan turned to him, his face impassive and his eyes even more so. Chakotay scoffed internally at his own stupidity – he would of course never know what Tuvok was thinking. For all he knew, the Vulcan was quite prepared to do him some serious damage. Did anyone know that they were down here, he mused. It was too late now.

"Shall we begin, Commander? Would you prefer karate or..."

"Do you know kickboxing?"

"Of course."

And they began. At first, they circled each other, Chakotay wary, Tuvok honouring the rules of the game. Eventually, Chakotay lashed out first. He tried to time a quick punch to Tuvok's shoulder but the Vulcan was too quick and he blocked him. At the same time, Tuvok pushed him away, span and aimed a kick at him. It connected with stomach and Chakotay was winded. Instead of slow him down though, it just made him angrier. He feigned a kick from his left leg and whilst Tuvok tried to block him, brought his right foot into contact with the Vulcan's stomach. They carried on in this manner for quite a while, outwitting the other and trading blows until something in the air changed and Chakotay decided that he was going to take the Vulcan down. Tuvok was fast but Chakotay was faster, especially in this mood. He poured all the resentment that he had been feeling for Tuvok into his fighting, punching so hard that his knuckles split and began to bleed. It wasn't long before he had Tuvok on his back, all the wind knocked from him but his face still as expressionless as ever, apart from one raised eyebrow.

"Would you like to continue, Commander?"

"Do you know tae-kwon-do?"

"Yes."

And they were off again. After Chakotay had managed to get him on the floor, Tuvok seemed to let down the guard he had been playing with and went all out, confident that the Commander could protect himself. They threw each other around the cargo bay with unchecked ferocity on both sides and it was only after he had managed to floor Chakotay three times that the other man finally yielded.

"I believe that's enough for this evening, Commander and allow me to compliment you on your skill. You must have been learning for a long time."

Chakotay took the hand that Tuvok offered to pull himself to his feet, noting that the Vulcan's hands were as bruised and bloody as his own. This also didn't escape Tuvok's notice.

"You may like to go to the sickbay, Commander, and ask the EMH to heal your hands."

"No, Tuvok," Chakotay rasped, "I prefer to keep the scars. They remind me that I need to control myself."

"Most admirable, Commander."

They walked side by side to their quarters, which were either side of Captain Janeway's. Although they didn't speak, the tense air that had hung between them before seemed to have melted away. At the door, Chakotay shook Tuvok's hand.

"Thanks for the offer, Tuvok. Maybe we can make it a regular thing?"

"I'm sure that would be possible. Goodnight, Commander."

"Goodnight Tuvok."

In her quarters, Captain Janeway could just make out their muffled conversation. It sounded like her plan had worked. She climbed into bed to finally sleep, having stayed up to hear the results of her chat with Tuvok.

***

The next morning on the bridge, Captain Janeway made a point of catching Tuvok's eye and smiling secretly. The Vulcan had raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement. He hadn't been sure of her suggestion, expressing the opinion that to have a man fight another with whom he was angry would be counterproductive. She convinced him to try and he of course complied. Much to his surprise, it did appear to have worked. Chakotay entered the bridge a minute behind his captain and shot her a wide smile as he took his seat. Throughout the day, she kept half an eye on him. He was still watching the bridge crew but now, whenever he looked at Tuvok he consciously massaged his bruised and battered hands, his eyes now without the dangerous expression of the last few days. Captain Janeway smiled to herself.

Little boys were all the same.


End file.
